


Green

by nasaplates



Series: CuriousCat Drabbles [5]
Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: I don't know how to tag this, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasaplates/pseuds/nasaplates
Summary: suchen + greenjunmyeon comes home, and has a question





	Green

**Author's Note:**

> kink negotiation off screen...again. i will write good kinky sex etiquette someday

“Aren’t you jealous?” 

Junmyeon’s voice interrupts the calm quiet, direct, no insecurity in his tone, maybe a little confusion, but not like Chanyeol. He never seems to feel lesser because he doesn’t know the answer to a question. More likely to think it’s the other person’s fault for not having made everything clear to him already. Jongdae loves that about him. He couldn’t explain why, exactly, but it doesn’t bother him, not having the words.

Jongdae rests his book on his stomach, takes the opportunity to stretch, cat-like. It’s a dual purpose movement; the stretch feels lovely after laying on the couch reading for so long, and he doesn’t have to look to know Junmyeon’s eyes are tracking the arch of his body intently.

“Jealous of what?” he asks.

Junmyeon’s eyes snap back to his face. “Of the others.” Not a trace of guilt in his voice, his face, his body.

Jongdae knows the answer, has already had this conversation with himself, but he looks inside himself again, anyway, honestly searching for any trace of bitter green envy. He doesn’t find any. 

“No,” he says, truthful, plain. “You want to travel. I don’t. You want to fuck pretty boys in pretty far off places.” He shrugs, easy. “What does that matter to me?” He picks up his book, marks his place, and reaches his arms over his head to put the book on the little side table next to the arm of the couch his head is resting on. The motion pulls his shirt up his stomach. When he’s put the book down, he leaves one arm draped over his head, rests his other hand half on his belt buckle, half on the exposed skin of his belly.

Junmyeon swallows, but doesn’t look away. “Are you sure?”

Jongdae smirks, rises smoothly to his feet, pads over to Junmyeon’s armchair and pushes him back by his shoulders until he can straddle his lap. Junmyeon’s hands automatically go to his waist, slide up his sides under his shirt, slide back down again, like they can’t help but touch. Jongdae rests his elbows on the back of the chair, leans so his face is close to Junmyeon’s but not quite touching. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, still smirking. “You got hard watching me read.” He grinds down onto Junmyeon’s lap, slow, sinuous. Junmyeon’s hands tighten on his waist and his eyelashes flutter.

“I’m sure,” Jongdae breathes against Junmyeon’s lips.

In a flash, Junmyeon’s hands have grabbed him by the side of the head, holding him where he wants him, kissing him hard, claiming. Jongdae laughs into his mouth. Why would Jongdae ever be jealous when it’s Junmyeon sucking new marks into his skin every time he comes back home?

Jongdae teases him, plays coy with his lips, his tongue, his body, never quite matching Junmyeon’s intensity, never crashing back into him the way Junmyeon wants. When Junmyeon growls against his throat while sucking a mark on his collarbone, Jongdae laughs again, and Junmyeon finally snaps. 

He picks Jongdae up and tosses him onto the couch, not giving him a moment to adjust before flipping him, pulling him back by the hips so his knees are on the floor, ass up, chest on the cushion. Junmyeon undoes Jongdae’s belt and pants with deft fingers, pulls pants and underwear down his thighs. Jongdae hears the snap of a lube bottle, wants to tease him for being such a boy scout, but doesn’t.

Jongdae hard, aching with it, smirks over his shoulder. “That’s right daddy, mark me up, use me, remind me who I belong to.” Junmyeon’s face darkens and he’s rough when he shoves the first lubed up finger into him. Jongdae moans, but doesn’t lose his smirk. “Oh, _unh_ , is that what you’re worried about, daddy? _Fuck_ , that you’ll, _oh_ , come back and I’ll have, _ah_ , someone else’s cock up my ass?”

Junmyeon pulls his finger out and Jongdae doesn’t have time to feel bereft before Junmyeon’s hand is wrapped around his neck, pressing the side of his face into the couch cushion, his cock pushing into him in one long, hard, too tight, almost-too-painful slide. He loses all thread of his own thoughts, just the pleasure pain of being filled, and controlled. 

Junmyeon says, same deadly control, absolute certainty, “ _Mine_.” and Jongdae is completely lost. Junmyeon pistons into him, the only sounds the slick slap of flesh and the moans punched out of Jongdae with every thrust. One hand tightening and loosening on his throat, the other hand leaving bruises on his hip, murmuring filth while Jongdae wantonly shoves himself back on Junmyeon’s cock. 

“My little slut, you look so pretty like this, taking cock like you were born for it, born for me, only me pretty baby, mine mine mine,” repeated until it’s a mantra. 

Jongdae chokes out “ _yours_ ” when he comes, untouched, and Junmyeon follows, one, two, three strokes after, filling him up with his come.

They collapse together, like that, Jongdae crushed to the couch by Junmyeon draped over his back, still inside him, softening slowly. Junmyeon’s mouth is open on his shoulder, humid pants making the fabric of his shirt damp, arms wrapped around his middle. Jongdae’s knees are aching, but he doesn’t for a second consider moving.

When his cock finally slips out, Jongdae shifts a little, uncomfortable, but Junmyeon just tightens his hold, presses kisses along his neck where his hand had been, takes a gentle bite of earlobe. “Love you,” he whispers, so quiet even Jongdae can barely hear it. 

Jongdae sighs, shuffles himself around until he and Junmyeon are sitting on the floor, leaned back against the couch, trying not to think about the come slowly leaking out of his ass. He turns his head, sees that for the first time that night Junmyeon can’t quite meet his eyes. Jongdae smiles softly, takes his hand, the hand that had held him down just minutes before, presses a kiss to the palm, tells his fingers, one by one, “Yours...yours...yours...yours...yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on twitter @nasaplates


End file.
